Totally Screwed
by stopmyheart
Summary: This is just great. Now I'll have to resort to passing them notes in class. Ugh.
1. Prologue

A/N: So…I'm kinda obsessed right now. With Mona. Err. Yeah. Is this a phase? IS BEING OBSESSED WITH A FICTIONAL PSYCHOPATH CONSIDERED A PHASE? NO? Ugh. DX

And I'm still planning how many chapters are going to go into this thing, alright? So don't ask. :/

**Title: **Totally Screwed

**Pairing: **None

**Summary: **This is just great. Now I'll have to resort to passing them notes in class. Ugh.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

_Hey, Em: Though giving your best friend a kiss is really sweet, it's always a pity when she doesn't return the favor…or your feelings. –A_

_Spence: Valedictorian again this year, eh? Too bad they don't give out A's for making out with your sister's boyfriends. Oh wait…I do! –A (see?)_

_Aria: Your messed-up family sounds like a real piece of work. Kinda like the ones you paint in art class. Only, paintings don't cheat on each others' husbands. –A_

_Hannah: My, my, Cinderella. An evil stepmother and stepsister, a father who doesn't care, a mother who left you…no one's here to care about you. There's just me, the fairy godmother, and even she's not very nice in this fairytale. -A _

And last but not least, _To Alison:_ Go to Hell, bitch. And stay there.

.x.

Okay, so.

I kind of hate my life right now. You know, _sorta._ A _little._ Only _maybe._

I am currently stuck in math class. Texting. I mean, honestly, _what_ would I do without my phone? It kind of sucks that I have to use two separate ones, though. My mom's already on my back about my cell phone bill and how much money I've been wasting by texting "my friends".

_They_ are_ not_ my friends, Ma. Well, with the exception of Hannah, I guess, but she's been _such_ an idiot lately that it's not even funny to make fun of her anymore.

As _A,_ of course.

Because Mona Vanderwald would _never_ make fun of her BFF.

But anyways, back to the class. Sitting there, texting, trying to get a _freaking connection _in the stupid school, because, forget expensive uniforms and the 35,000 dollar tuition, Rosewood Day has the _crappiest _Internet, and because the substitute teacher is droning on and on about whatever, and even _if _she catches me not paying attention and barks out a math question, I'll know the answer anyway.

Because I'm Mona. And I'm a genius.

And I'm _A._

So I guess that _that_ wouldn't explain very much. But—oh wait, something interesting just happened.

Emily just came into class, late. The substitute took her hall pass and explained that Mr. Hends is ill today (good riddance, too—I'm getting kind of sick of watching him trying to weave his fatass through the aisles of desks—it kind of makes me throw up a little inside), and that she would be replacing him for the day.

I immediately see the look on Emily's face when she sees the sub. My gossip senses are just _tingling,_ because the substitute teacher _is_ kinda hot (for an _older woman_, I mean—hey, _I'm _not the one who's lesbian here, okay?). I smirk a little as I whip out my _other _phone.

Emily returns to her seat, her face a little red. She continues to stare at the sub a little while the lady lectures. I start to send out a text—_I thought that Aria was the only one who had trouble keeping her hands off of her teachers, Em—_but then suddenly, my phone is taken away from me.

More actually, ripped out of my hands.

By the sub.

_Oh, shit._

"Mona, is it?"

I look up at her coolly, careful to keep my face expressionless, and nod. Ever since my _transformation_, I swear to god, I have become a total _super spy_ at disguising my feelings like a total sociopath, darting in and out of sight, keeping quiet, holding my breath for long periods of time, being a freaking _ninja, _and texting at _one hundred thirty words _per minute. I'm pretty sure that if the CIA ever knew about my astounding capabilities, they would have hired me by now.

"Detention, Mona. And you can have your cell phone back on Monday." It's Friday. _Bitch._

I smile apologetically. "I'm _so_ sorry, Mrs. Merle," I gush. "It won't ever happen again, I promise."

She basically just makes this little _huffing_ noise and walks away. God, she sucks.

I deflate a little in my chair. Suddenly, I feel bored and tired, a little like that caffeine crash you get when you've downed more coffee than the world ever needed and ran out. It kind of freaks me out that the loss of a _cell phone _could make me feel this way. My hands itch to type out the text on my other phone, the one belonging to Mona, but I know that that would be stupid; Emily would find out who I was.

Oh, well. There would be plenty more opportunities to torment, anyway.

Still, though, I kinda miss my phone.

From the corner of my eye, I scan the room. Spencer's sitting two seats across from me—she's busily scribbling down notes and patterns and equations. It's weird, and creepy, the way she does it. I'm mean, with all her good grades, and motivations, and goals, who's she trying to impress? Her parents? Her sister? She's not even doing it for _herself._ She's just a puppet on strings; doing whatever is told to her, trying to make everyone happy and to please _everyone…_

My god, she makes me _sick. _

I mean, I'm smart, too, okay? Seriously, how _else_ would I have become _A_ if I hadn't been some sort of natural genius? Honestly. I know about Valedictorian. I _know_ about tests and quizzes and the pressure of getting the best grades and being at the top of your class. But that all changed for me when I became _A._

When I look at Spencer, I realize that I used to _be_ her. Which kind of sucks, seeing that the only person she has time for a social life for is her _mother._

I roll my eyes and take a look at Aria, who seems a little nervous for some reason. Actually, I know why. Her parents are filing for the divorce soon. If I had my _freaking cell phone,_ I would actually be able to make fun of her a little. I study her face (_discreetly, _okay? Hey, I'm not stupid) a little, wincing at her makeup.

_Ew._ Glitter. Okay, I know that it works on _some_ people, but I swear to god, she should stop trying to make herself look like a fairy and start trying to make herself look like something-that-does-not-resemble-a-five-year-old. Or, maybe the glitter's just cover-up for the dark bags under her eyes.

_Oh._ Now I get it. Her parents _are_ divorcing, anyway.

I sigh and stare right at Hannah, who's sitting right behind me. Well, she _is _supposed to be my "best friend". Socializing a little couldn't hurt. I make a face and mouth words to her.

"_I miss my phone."_

Hannah giggles a little, rolling her eyes. She tauntingly texts someone on _her_ cell phone, slowly, teasingly. She presses the _send_ button with a flourish and a dramatic flick.

I grimace and giggle. _"You are so dead, Hannah."_ I whisper, and she laughs.

Inside, though, I want to puke. Hannah's makeup is done perfectly, unlike Aria's. Her hair is freshly curled and shiny, strategically framing her face, managing to make her look innocent yet sexy at the same time—which, I guess, is her idea of how to get guys (talk about giving a guy _mixed signals_…honestly). Her clothes are the fall's latest fashion—I see Victoria's shirt, Calvin's sunglasses, Vera's on her feet, and Chanel dangling at her wrists. She's the perfect cover girl.

Only, she's putting on some weight. _Again._

God, I know that depression makes people want comfort food or whatever, but honestly, how depressed can you _get?_

Hannah puts her phone down, leans over to my desk, and copies some answers off of my paper. I roll my eyes and poke her playfully in her waist, and she winces a little, keeping her eye on the substitute teacher, whose back is turned to us.

The skin of her waist had sunken a little—no, a _lot_-to my finger's touch. Ugh. She should invest in a corset.

Hannah whispers to me. "I don't get the stupid math. I mean, why can't y and x just get married, or something?"

I reply. "It's their _intersection,_ not _intercourse._" Hannah giggles and sits back down.

I turn my head away from her and blankly stare at the blackboard. I wonder how people _without_ cell phones could ever survive. Really. I know I may sound like a complete cell-phone-tard, but it's my _life_, tormenting these girls.

And, yes, that means that _my life ends at twelve thirty lunchtime._

Apparently, after twelve thirty, I have no life anymore. I have to sit with Hannahkins, giggle giggle yakkety yak like the best friend I'm supposed to be.

Of course, I _am _popular, and being on _top_ of Rosewood Day's food chain could hardly be considered 'not having a life'. But honestly, the _only thing_ that separates me from losers like Hannah and the other pretty, popular girls is that I actually _have a brain and use it. _Really. You think Spencer's smart?

_A_ is unstoppable. _A_ is invincible. _A_ has outsmarted not _only_ Spencer, but three other girls _at the same time_, as well. God. I should _really_ get an award, or at least a job offer from the CIA. It's _so_ not fair.

Observations: I'm stuck in math class without anything to gossip about, or anyone to torment, or a cell phone to text, or a job offer from the CIA (yet). There are four flawed girls around me who I'm just _dying_ to sabotage, but I can't, because _apparently,_ y'sintersect of x is more important right now.

Other Observations: Spencer and Emily can wait. Aria's got a divorce plan going on between her parents. Must contemplate tormenting. Try following her home tonight, and spying. See what happens. Oh, and Hannah needs to lose some weight. Drop a text to her once you get your phone back.

Even More Observations: It's _really_ hot right now. And, _goddammit,_ I'm getting _so. Tired._ Is this _really_ because of the cell phone? Am I like, _clinically depressed _without it? _God…_

Conclusion: Don't text in math class. Like, ever. Again.

One Last Observation: I really, _really_ hate my life right now.

* * *

Review. Like, honestly. :/


	2. Fool

So I'm guessing that, _A_ without her cell phone is like Batman without his utility belt—they're both powerless and just normal people after that.

I mean, come _on,_ does Batman even _have_ any powers? Besides the one where he's like, the emoest person on the planet? Whatever, though. Maybe a better example would be Spiderman. Without his super powers, he's powerless and unable to spin that sticky web stuff. But really, all Spiderman has to do is _climb things._

Still, though, I felt pretty powerless and drained when I walked out of math class. Without my phone, I just felt like…a_ loser. _A _normal person._ A pedestrian _(_yeah I _know_ I'm one of the most popular girls at Rosewood Day, now shut up_)._

And it didn't feel really great.

"So, wanna come over tonight?" Hannah asked me as we walked towards the Locker. The Locker is where me and Hannah store extra makeup, foundation, skin care products, emergency outfits, sunglasses, lip balm, our hand mirrors, and a pretty shiny amount of jewelry for _emergency use only—_and it's_ fucking amazing. _At the beginning of the year we asked the school if we could pay for another locker to share, just in case we both 'ran out of room'. Now we have a totally awesome Locker, worth three dollars every week, which Hannah and I take turns paying.

"Can't. Shopping with mom after school." I quickly made up a lie to cover up my _real_ plans (following Aria home after school). Hannah didn't take the bait, though. Pity.

"Oh, I could come too, you know!" Hannah swirled our Locker combo, then popped it open.

When I say the Locker is amazing, it is really _freaking. Amazing._

We decorated it with a mix between both of our tastes—totally prep-girl for Hannah, and totally Gothic Lolita for me. White, pink, and black lace outlines the entire thing, with sparkly pink wallpaper we got from the nearest department store lining the walls. There are photographs of Hannah and I everywhere on the thing—it's like a memorabilia of our entire lives together. And oh, it _reeks_ with our favorite perfume—_Fleur Di Lis._

"Ugh, no thanks. You know, you should lie _down low_ from the stores for a while. In case they think you'll steal another pair of sunglasses." I knew that hitting her sore spot—stealing those sunglasses—would make her change her mind.

Hannah froze for a second, her eyes turning dark, as if remembering something unpleasant. I waited for her to say something.

_Still remembering that cop, Hannah? _I wanted to say it out loud, with a smirk and a flourish of innocent eyelash-batting, perhaps, but too bad for me; Mona didn't _know_ about the cop, _A_ did. So I stayed silent.

"…yeah, you're probably right," Hannah murmured, and she quickly grabbed a nice shade of lip gloss and applied it on herself, checking the mini-mirror we had glued to the wall. I grabbed a scarlet scarf from one of the Locker's hooks—last season's, but whatever. It was _really_ freaking cute.

Hannahkins applied some finishing touches—spraying herself with some kind of powdery scent, dabbing a _tiny_ amount of glitter at her eyes (see, Aria, _that's_ how you use glitter properly), and then she slammed the Locker shut with a flourish.

_I'm Hannah, and I'm fabulous._ I smirked when I was reminded of her favorite saying.

Well, Hannah, you're in for a surprise tonight.

.x.

Following Aria home was no problem. I mean, it's not like we live very far away from each other or anything, and Aria's mind was too preoccupied with the upcoming marriage split than to pay attention to what was around her. Actually, all _four_ of them have that problem.

It's probably one of the reasons they haven't caught _A_ yet.

The other reason is that _I_ am _A,_ and, well, that's pretty self-explanatory.

(I AM SO PLEASED WITH MYSELF.)

Anyway, I texted my mom (on my completely useless _Mona _cell phone, ugh) to let her know that I was at Hannah's for dinner. Then, instead of taking the bus like I usually do, I ran after Aria, who was riding her bike home that day (I'm guessing she likes the exercise). I groaned when I realized what I was wearing—_Dolce's_ leather heels. No way was I going to be able to follow Aria on a quick trail with her on a bike and me on the road with three-inch heels.

_Next time, wear Converse_. I thought to myself furiously, as I silently made my way through the school's shrubbery. Aria was busy unlocking her bike from the bicycle stand. She quickly fastened her backpack straps to her shoulders, hooked one leg over her bike, and then split.

_Show time._

I hurriedly hooked my messenger backpack, the one containing my laptop, camera, and the space that _used to hold my freaking cell phone, _tightly onto my shoulder, then quickly and silently followed her through the main school entrance, managing to duck past security cameras (I don't know why Rosewood Day wastes money on _those_ when we can't even have reliable Internet) and a couple of freshmen. _A_ would have thought through this correctly. _A_ would have made no mistakes. _A_ would have brought _freaking Converse._

But then again, _A_ didn't have her cell phone.

Without his powers, Spiderman's just an ordinary person. Without her cell phone, _A's_ just an ordinary stalker.

.x.

Aria didn't have a long ride.

But _I_ had a very, _very_ long walk.

By the time I had reached Aria's place, my feet had blisters on them from running on heels (ugh,_ never again, _I promise you), I was breathing heavily (which didn't help for my 'silent stalker' alter ego), and my messenger bag felt like it weighed as much as Hannah did before she became bulimic.

_I am _so_ going to sue myself for this one day._

Aria, with a screech of bicycle wheels, parked her bike at her driveway and ran inside her house. I looked around, making sure no neighbors were watching the insane-looking girl with messed up hair and bleeding feet stalk Aria Montgomery.

Yeah, I didn't feel so hot at the time. But cut me a _break,_ okay?

Anyways, after making sure nobody was peeking through windows or jogging with their pet doggy, I quickly made my way past the Montgomery lawn, through the patio, and into the backyard. I figured I had a better chance of sneaking inside the house and not getting caught when I was in the _back_ of the house, instead of the front (which, I guess, is the most basic of basics when it comes to breaking into some random person's home).

I studied the back wall of the house. On one end, there was one of those criss-cross white things that had tomato vines crawling up the sides, scaling the entire back wall. On the other end, there was a striped green and white awning that I guess was for picnics. I don't actually know, but it didn't really matter.

The built-in vine-holder was my best choice.

Huffing, I quickly pulled my messenger bag over my head and plopped it onto the ground, hearing my laptop and camera clank together as they collided. I quickly tied my mussed and sweaty hear into a ponytail, then took a deep breath.

Kids, don't try this at home.

Instead, stalk a random girl to _her_ house and do it _there_.

.x.

Climbing up vines is _not_ easy. Oh yeah, and it's _even better_ when you're in heels.

I made a vow to myself that day: never, _ever_ WEAR MY FREAKING DOLCE'S HEELS WHILE STALKING SOMEONE.

If you thought I was mad about my heels _before,_ then you've got _nothing on me_ the fifteen minutes after.

My _god._

My feet were skinned, blistered, bleeding, and raw. Halfway up the wall I reached a balcony, took off my heels, and chucked them furiously at the ground. Then I continued the rest of the way up _without_ those god-awful shoes.

Apparently, being _A_ isn't always so glamorous, you see. You have to put your heels on hold for a minute and climb _vines_ (like _Tarzan, _ew) when your cell phone gets taken away.

(I DEMAND A REFUND.)

So there I was, in my freaking short-short skirt and my heelless feet, with my hair tangled and my fingers rubbed raw from clinging onto nothing but branches for an entire half hour, when I heard a girl crying from one of the bedroom windows.

Let me remind you that this is Rosewood, Pennsylvania. Where all that glitters is gold and where _all_ the girls have the latest seasons from Covergirl made, packed, and delivered straight to their closets the night _before._

Where all the houses are huge (and, apparently, have painfully thick vines to crawl up on).

It was near a window where I heard Aria crying in her room. I quickly stepped onto the ledge, my feet screaming with relief once I placed them gently on a cool surface. I had to be careful so that Aria wouldn't see me.

Gaining a steady balance on the white ledge, I propped my elbows up onto the windowsill and rested my head in my arms. I had to stand on tiptoe to see inside, but it was worth it.

I peeked through the window, and, behold! There was Aria. Sitting on her bed, a box of tissues in one hand and the other covering her face. Near the background, I could hear her parents shouting at each other below the stairs.

Aria's overdone glitter makeup was smudged and her mascara wrecked; she looked a _mess._ I wondered if she ever washed all that gothic-looking makeup off of her face.

I smirked, despite the pain I was in, at the thought of a clown-faced Aria. Big, red lips, painted-on smile, tons of white makeup drizzling down her face as she sobbed about her parents. Always being forced to smile, with paint and makeup on her face. She'd make an ugly clown. I _needed _to text her about this new clown idea. Maybe I could even give Aria a nickname, like the one I gave Hannahkins. Clowny.

I quickly grabbed my cell phone from my pocket—or attempted to, at least.

_Attempted_ is a big word, here.

Because my cell phone…wasn't in my pocket.

…

…_it wasn't in my pocket._

I cursed out loud.

"FUCK."

Aria's head whipped up.

Now, before you start thinking that I'm a _total idiot_ and nearly as _stupid as Ali was_, let me justify my stupid actions.

First of all, I was high up, on a _vine,_ for Pete's sake, trying to stalk a girl without a cell phone. Um, can you say _adrenaline raise?_ Adrenaline's up and running, a whole batch of hormones rush in, and anything as small as an _ant_ (or in this case, a lost cell phone) can shock you.

Secondly, hey, I'm _A,_ okay? To me, not having my cell phone is like being sustained on life support. Call me a retard or whatever, but I just _can't live without my phone._

Third of all: I just flat-out panicked, okay?

Aria probably suspected that _A_ would be watching her. After all, all four of the girls have been hilariously paranoid ever since _A_ had started circling around them. I had to give Aria her credit, though; she was right to be freaked out.

"Who's there?" her trembling voice echoed through the house. She screamed.

Loudly.

"Aria!" her brother Mike came rushing up the steps. Her parents, forgetting about their fight, raced up the stairs to their daughter.

Aria was nearing the window. "Who's there?" she shrieked again, and this time, I did the only thing I could.

I let go.

_Of the window ledge._

.x.

Oh come _on,_ I had to.

If I hadn't, Aria would have caught me, seen that _I_ was _A,_ and then probably would have had an aneurysm and died of shock or something. Her parents would have called the cops. I would have been questioned, arrested, and I would have lost my cover. _A._

I would have lost _A._

And _A_ was everything, to me—my identity, my purpose, my reason for tormenting.

So, I _had_ to let go.

Falling is pretty nice, anyway.

Falling backwards, especially.

Let me make this clear: I'm not scared of falling. I'm scared of when I _stop_ falling. But still, just because the two-second drop leads to a scary final destination doesn't mean that I couldn't enjoy any of it.

So for the first second, I pretty much realized that I was no longer standing on tiptoe on Aria's balcony, and that a blur of blue sky and wind and trees and grass awaited me. The air smelled nice and fresh and it was whistling past my ears and—_HOLY CRAP I'M DEAD._

For the _second_ second (HAH! A pun! I do like those…), I basically just…blanked out.

Yeah, that's right. All that crap about seeing your life flash before your eyes in dangerous, possibly life-ending situations that are also sometimes caused by stupidity (ahem)? Yeah, it's a lie. I basically just saw the world spin a little, and then—WHAM!

There I was, on the ground.

…Okay, so when I said that I _blanked out_ while I was falling, when I hit the ground, I _blanked out even more._ If that's even possible.

I dizzily sat up and rubbed my head, mentally checking to make sure everything was in place. That no limbs were broken, that I hadn't crushed a bone or punctured an eye or anything—when I heard Aria talking above me.

"There was someone at my window!"

"Aria, are you alright? Check outside, who was it?" her parents fretted over her. I saw Mike's silhouette through the curtains and I knew that I only had about _one second._

Luckily, having survived the fall, adrenaline and nerves made me act quickly. I jumped up, grabbed my discarded heels in one hand and my bag in the other, and jumped into the bushes, tangling my hair in the process. I peeked through a gap in the leaves, watching as Mike's sharp eyes scanned the entire backyard.

"There's no one there, sis. Are you sure you weren't just imagining it?"

"No! I _heard_ something! I swear! It was a person outside my window!" Aria marched up to her brother and pulled open her drapes, her eyes frantically scanning the area.

Oh, if only she knew…

"Aria, there's no one there. No one's here to hurt you. And," her mother turned towards her father, "we have important business to discuss."

That seemed to distract Aria a little bit.

"Well…" Aria looked over her shoulder, her eyes still searching and frightened. They slid over my bush, nearly catching me trying to untangle my hair. I stilled my hand and froze when she looked over.

"…alright, then. You guys can…go back to talking." Aria and her family filed out of her room. I counted to twenty in my head, then rolled out of the bushes, still examining my body for anything that could have been broken.

My dress was torn and smudged with dirt. My hair was tangled from the bush's brambles. My feet and hands were still stiff and sore, and that _really_ didn't help the fact that I felt like an idiot. A stupid, reckless, cell-phone-tard idiot.

I _really, really, _really hate my life.


	3. Coward

A/N: OHMYGOD.

I'M SO SORRY. D:

Yes, I am a liar. Much like Mona.

Yes, I am a bitch. D:

I'M SO SORRY! DX I had a whole TON of math/Chinese/piano/swim practice the entire MONTH it is not even funny.

Again, sorry. :3 Hopefully my erratic updates will no longer continue.

* * *

So after the Disaster That Will Never Be Mentioned Again, I treated myself to a little shopping.

Going to the mall is one of Rosewood's favorite pastimes, after all, and I _really really_ needed it. I needed a confidence boost, after my horrendous attempt at stalking without a phone. I needed to go someplace where I could see people who were _way_ fatter than I was try to squeeze themselves into a size four while I slipped (_silkily, perfectly, flowingly_) into a size _zero._

Call me conceited, vain, whatever, but I really don't give a crap.

Because it feels _amazing._

Because it's where I belong.

So I went shopping at King's Mall, where all the stores are overpriced and stylish, and where all the dresses are worth more than your entire home. I browsed, bought, lifted a bracelet or two, then made my way to the food court for a low-fat vanilla latte.

Listen, I don't mean to be brief. I _love_ shopping, and I love telling people about it. It kills me that I have to be very vague about what I bought, and it kills me that I can't give any details about the dress, or the scarf, or the jewelry, but there are more important things to discuss.

Like what happened at the mall.

I grabbed my latte from the overweight cashier, sneered at her, then walked towards a table, my shopping bags dangling from my arm. I sat down at a booth, then immediately got out my cell phone and checked my email.

This next part is important, so pay attention.

"Hey Em, over here!"

I froze at the sound of a familiar voice. _Hannah._

I whipped around and saw Spencer, Aria, and Hannah sitting at a nearby table. A few feet away from them was Emily, carrying four lattes from the cashier, heading towards the table.

I immediately bolted. I stuffed my purchases under the table, hiding them from view (I can't stalk the girls properly with a ton of merchandise hanging down my arms, after all), then silently slid over behind a potted plant. They didn't know I was there. I had an advantage.

Fumbling in my pocket for my cell phone, I realized that it would be _so easy_ to just text them all at once right there. In the mall. Send them one creepy little message, short but sweet.

Of course, I couldn't.

Because my _cell phone wasn't there._

"Ugh!" I looked towards them once again, my hair brushing past my face. They were sitting there and chatting, but they had serious expressions on their faces. Anxious expressions.

I _needed_ to find out what was going on.

I inched a little closer, taking the potted plant with me. Ugh, _so_ un-glamorous, I know. But hey, it's probably the best I could do without my phone.

"It's so weird." Emily was talking, sipping her latte anxiously. "I mean, I haven't gotten a text from _A_ in two days. It's like she's…laying _off_ on us."

"I know." Aria was shuddering, hugging herself a little. "Guys, something happened at my house, yesterday. It was…creepy. Well, I don't know if anyone was even_ at my window,_ but…it sounded like someone was there. Watching."

"Ohmygod, Aria!" Spencer whipped towards her friend, forgetting about her latte. "What happened?"

I inched forward a little, discreetly. I dragged the plant along.

"I swear, someone was _at my window."_ Aria whispered, then shook her head. "But hey, it's probably just me imaging things. Mike and my parents even checked the lawn afterwards. There was no one there."

Yeah, because of my super-awesome ninja skills.

Ironically, while I was inching forward at that moment, I slipped a little and my ankle landed awkwardly on the tiled floor. My heel of my Dolce's snapped.

_Goddammit._ Maybe not a _ninja_ exactly, but…you know…

_This is the LAST TIME I am wearing heels. Ever._

"Are you sure you're okay, Aria?" Emily asked, then reached out to take her friend's hand. "I know the divorce is hard on you."

"I'm fine." Aria replied firmly, then shook Emily's hand away. "There's nothing to worry about."

"Nope. Not at all." Hannah seemed awfully cheerful. "In fact, we should be celebrating! Maybe _A_ grew tired of tracking us!"

"Yeah." Spencer smiled a bit.

"Maybe."

Hannah jutted out her cheeks. "I'm Hannah, and I'm fabulous!" she cried out, and they all laughed.

Somehow, the sight of them, together, hanging out and laughing, and with Hannah saying what used to be _Alison's_ line—"I'm Alison, and I'm fabulous!"—made something break inside of me.

Suddenly, I wasn't so confident anymore.

Suddenly, I felt like the old Mona—from the outside looking in, watching four friends—or was it five?—hanging out, laughing. Wanting to be a part of something that would never happen.

And suddenly, I wasn't _A_ anymore.

I was just Mona. Ugly, geeky, shy Mona.

I walked back to my booth and stared blankly at my latte. I remembered.

I _remembered._

Teasing, making fun of, whispering behind my back, laughing in my face, pretending to be all _sweet_ and _friendly _whenever their parents were around…nobody believed me when I said they were mean. Nobody believed me when I told them I was being bullied. Not even my own parents.

I closed my eyes, feeling tears beginning to form. When I opened them, I wasn't alone.

Instantly.

Instantly, Ali was there, sitting on the other side of the table, smiling at me. Shining, beautiful Ali, the way I remembered her.

"Oh, Mona." She sighed sulkily. "You aren't going to _cry_ again, are you?" she winked a little. I snorted.

"What do you want?"

"What, I can't even check in on my favorite psychopath anymore?" she teased, but there was a glint in her eye. An angry glint.

_Good._ Maybe now she'll know what it's like, to not be in control of something.

But…

…I didn't want to. I didn't want to provoke her. I just wanted—no, _needed_—her help.

I was in an insecure and vulnerable position. I needed someone's help, at the time, and who better than Alison DiLaurentis?

"Ali," I said softly, avoiding her eyes, staring at my latte, "what would _you_ do?"

She was probably expecting some sort of insult hurtling back at her or something, because she looked surprised that I was actually willing to ask for her help.

"Me?" She sighed and gave a brief glance at her former best friends, who were laughing. "I'd make sure that Ali was never forgotten."

I glanced up at her, surprised. "What do you-"

"Look, Mona." Alison sighed, then started checking on her nails. "Don't try to deny it, but, you're trying to _be_ me. You're impersonating me, using my own personality to terrorize those four girls." She waved over to Spencer, Aria, Hannah, and Emily. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be stuck in your head all day, and you wouldn't be having these insane imaginary conversations with a dead person."

"Moving _on…"_ I hinted through gritted teeth, and she laughed.

"Oh come _on,_ Mona. _You're_ supposed to be the genius. Figure it out yourself." She swung her hair away from her shoulder, then grinned cheekily. "By the way, nice outfit."

"Wait," I gripped my latte cup, hard. "Why…why are you _helping_ me? They used to be _your_ friends, didn't they?" I didn't understand. What was she _doing?_

"Maybe they deserve it." Alison suddenly stared down at the table. "For what they did to you."

"…ohmygod." I muttered. "This is crazy." I could hardly believe it. Alison DiLaurentis. Mastermind manipulator, my idol.

"You're…you're _sympathizing_ for me."

"Consider it as owing you a favor. You know…" she drifted off a little. "for everything."

"So…you get to ditch and pin all the blame on your friends?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, I was murdered, and then buried in my backyard for two years." She waved this towards me breezily, as if it were just a casual piece of info. "Don't you think I've been punished _enough_ already?"

"One last thing." I gripped the edge of the table a little. I looked over at the four liars. My nails dug into my palms.

I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them to _cry_. I wanted them to be terrified and to drag out their fates for as long as I could.

And I had the one person in the _world_ who knew how to do exactly that.

I turned back to Ali, took a deep breath, then blew all my insecurity away.

"How do I _hurt_ them?"

Ali just looked at me. Then she smiled, a true, evil, Ali smile. It wasn't ever a smile she showed her 'friends'. It wasn't a smile she used for just _anyone._ It was _her_ smile, who she truly was on the inside, the person she had become from years of doting friends and parents and getting everything she wanted. It was the smile that portrayed her, Alison, this girl in front of me who was dead but so, _so_ alive, who was as pure white on the outside as she was black within.

"Oh, darling." She smirked, then winked. "The same way you've always been doing it."

She leaned closer, and suddenly she was close, so close, that I could _feel_ the warmth radiating from her skin and smell her perfume and mint breath.

"Using your cell, of course."

.x.

Instantly, Ali was gone, so suddenly _gone,_ just as suddenly as she'd appeared.

But the rational part of my mind argued that of _course_ Ali was gone, she was _dead._ The image of her I'd conjured up was just my imagination.

My other conscious, I guess.

I stood up and grabbed my bags from under the table, then headed out the door, ignoring the giggling group of girls at the table.

I knew what I had to do. Thanks to Ali, I knew that the only way I would be able to stick to terrorizing was with my cell phone.

Goodbye, Ali.

Hello, _A._

.x.

So, planning.

Now that I had gone on a self-confidence boost shopping trip, and had a little discussion with my dead nemesis and _frienemy,_ it was time to go onto Operation: Get Back Cell Phone, Bitch.

Yeah, that's right, O.G.B.C.P.B. was _completely _underway.

"You're great and everything, Mona, but," Ali said as she crouched down to look at my notes, frowning, "shouldn't you wait for when school is _closed?"_

I had been scribbling my ideas onto a note pad on the floor of my room, silently muttering to myself for the past hour. Every now and then Ali would slip into my room (and my consciousness), occasionally glancing at my floor map, or muttering something about my room decorations, or giving me hints of advice. I glanced up at her.

"It'll be easier to get in when school's open," I explained breezily. I had considered this carefully already. "The school guards—oh you know, the ones that the school pays for instead of reliable Internet—are always posted outside. It'd be suspicious if a girl was caught trying to get into school at _night,_ instead of during the day. Also, during the school day, it's pretty busy and there'll be plenty of distractions for the substitute."

Alison nodded, impressed. "Great work, genius. But there's still one more thing." She frowned a little. "When the substitute supposedly _gives back your phone_ to you on Monday, what will you do when she realizes it's gone? I mean, she _did_ take it from you, right?"

I was already _way_ ahead of her. "Easy. I'll just replace it with _Mona's_ cell phone." I raised my regular, popular-girl-from-Rosewood-Day phone, the one that belonged to Mona Vanderwald. I smiled a little.

"When I go in to take back _A_'s phone, I'll just swap phones with this one." I slipped Mona's phone into my pocket. "They're both Blackberries, anyway, and there's really no difference between them, so the substitute will never notice. That way, on Monday, when she gives back "my phone", it'll be Mona's phone and not _A_'s, and by then, _A_ would have texted those four girls into oblivion."

"Sweet." Alison laughed, then she flopped onto my bed. She sighed, looking up at my ceiling.

"You know, we should have hung out." She stated this casually, as if it were just another 'could have been', and not a 'can't ever happen' kind of thing.

I wondered if she ever remembered that she was dead.

I wondered if she remembered that _she_ was the one who had rejected_ me,_ not the other way around.

I got up from the floor and cracked my neck a little, stretching my limbs and yawning. An hour of being cramped up on the floor, working your brain out, can get a little tiring. And dehydrating. "I'm gonna go get some water. Want anything?"

I realized too late that she wasn't actually_ there._

"Oh, _yeah."_ Ali laughed sarcastically. "Sure. Get me a Coke. Ignore the fact that I'm really just a figment of your imagination and not an actual person. Or maybe I'm a ghost. Who knows." She laid back down on my bed. I bit my lip, wondering how hard my comment had hit her.

"I'm sorry." I said, unsure, because I had always hated/loved Ali, and I had never known whether to treat her like a friend or a nemesis. I didn't even know whether to welcome her into my brain and consciousness _now_ or not to.

Alison waved her hand at me. "Don't worry about it. As soon as this is all over, you'll have your phone back, and I'll be gone. Go, now. Shoo."

I walked out of the room. When I came back, she was gone.

As expected.

Again, I had to remind myself that Ali was _dead._ Of course she was gone.

She was always gone.

The girl in my room, the one in my head, wasn't even real.

_Ignore the fact that I'm really just a figment of your imagination and not an actual person. Or maybe I'm a ghost. Who knows._

…Who knows.

* * *

REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! 8D


	4. Liar

A/N: Sorry I haven't been here to update much, I've been in Alaska for the past week! DX

But I got many kind reviews, thank you so much! I HAVE NOW ALMOST FINISHED THIS FIC. I seriously couldn't have done this without you guys.

And also! To onerepublicgirl: unfortunately, the Mona in the TV series hasn't been doing much on screen. I'm sure that in later episodes, her role will become much more significant (for the sake of the plot and storyline), but for now, she's just some sort of minor, background character. But I _do_ like to imagine, whenever I see her on screen, that through all her best-buddies-with-Hannah façade, she's some sort of twisted, evil psycho, just waiting for her chance inside.

All in all, a pretty nice introduction to her role, but not really what I'm looking for. Yet. =.=

I knew that being _A_ had its responsibilities.

I didn't exactly know what I was signing up for, though.

In the beginning, when _A_ had started and Mona had ended, I didn't realize what responsibility I had to carry, what I was going to go through. I mean, sure, being _A_ had its bright points, but it had many lows, as well; it was a wonder how no one noticed how much my cell phone bill had increased, all of a sudden, because I now had to use two separate cell phone accounts.

No one noticed the dark bags under my eyes from lack of sleep.

No one noticed how pale I had gotten.

No one noticed how skinny I suddenly became.

(Except for me, of course. It's kinda hard not to notice when you're turning into Frankenstein.)

They only paid attention to my new clothes, new hairstyle, new look. New popularity.

Of course, it was all _totally _worth it, don't get me wrong. The dark baggy eyes from stalking four people at once too much, the pale skin from spending too much time indoors typing up untraceable email return addresses (that's where my genius kicks in, see), the lack of food I was suddenly consuming. It was all worth it.

But still. It kind of makes me wonder, sometimes, how nobody noticed these changes in me. Oh, sure, they know that I used to be that quiet geeky girl with nothing but her laptop as her friend, but they noticed nothing else about me, other than the fact that I suddenly grew into a killer figure and started wearing more makeup.

So I guess that, since nobody _else_ noticed these things, I didn't really notice, either. I mean, I noticed the _physical_ aspects of my change, but not the mental ones.

I didn't notice the responsibilities I had, the sudden heavy burden I had to carry all the way. I was just a girl carried away by my own brilliance.

But now? Now, I could be hired, trained, and certified as a CIA agent before college, if I wanted to. Now, I could become the first female and youngest president of the United States. Now, I could become the new Adolf Hitler, if I ever chose so.

But for _right_ now, I'm happy just following Aria, Spencer, Emily, and Hannah around. Oh, and having pep talks with a dead girl. Right.

Maybe I'm a little too much, even for the CIA.

…

I walked into school the exact same day I had reacquainted myself with, talked with, and planned with Alison. It was still Saturday. If everything in the plan worked, I would be able to have my cell phone for a whole two days.

Hey, I know it doesn't seem like a lot. But trust me, I can do a _lot _of damage in two days.

Anyways, I came well prepared.

I carried in my Prada purse (a backpack would look too suspicious and too much like a hitchhiker) a flashlight, a bottle of water, a map of the school, some hairpins, a box of matches, my planning papers, and a homemade firecracker.

Oh, and I brought along Alison, too.

"God, Mona," she sighed as we walked together towards Rosewood Day. I was adjusting the straps of my backpack, half-paying attention to her, half running the plan through my head over and over. "I know that I'm dead and everything, and that I'm supposed to be your _nemesis_, or whatever, but…you seriously_ rock."_

"Thanks." I said through gritted teeth. "You seriously _don't_."

"Hey. I know we've had a rough start." I rolled my eyes as Alison began her let's-be-friends speech for the nth time, "But if I had had _any_ idea that you were this awesome when I was alive, then I would have _totally_ got to know you."

"I tried to get to know _you_, when you were alive." I straightened my backpack.

"But you never let me."

Ali just stared straight at me. I don't know whether she was challenging me or apologizing.

I really couldn't breathe when she was looking at me like that.

It made me a bit uncomfortable.

"It doesn't matter, though." I looked at the ground, contemplating, watching my Converse-fitted feet slap the cement, over and over again. I had really become prepared with _Converse,_ not heels, this time. "I just want to get this over with."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened my eyes and, as usual, Ali was gone.

I shrugged a little, then continued on my way. It didn't really matter, to me. She would always come back in my moment of need, anyway.

I reached the school at six. Before I lingered too long in front of the school yard to make the guards watching the security cameras suspicious of the girl who just stood there and gawked at the building, I immediately made my way towards the guardhouse, taking out some matches and my firecracker as I went.

I crept near the bushes, making sure to avoid the hidden cameras. During weekends, Rosewood Day was only open to teachers and staff, and students were prohibited from going into the school building, even if it was to grab the homework you forgot, or anything.

Nobody ever thought that someone would want to sneak _into _the school, though.

So I highly doubted that they were prepared to deal with a school burglary. I mean, it's not like I was trying to _hurt_ anyone, or anything. I already had an excuse made up and my act practiced, in case I was caught.

I crept towards the guard building. I heard a small TV playing some cartoon, and a guard laughing his fat head off about something. I rolled my eyes, then took a deep breath.

Outside the guard building, one might have heard a big explosion. After hearing said explosion, one probably would have turned their heads towards the sound and seen a big billow of smoke and heard the guard shouting some obscenities of "crazy punks" and "playing stupid pranks".

The guard ran out of the guardhouse, coughing and sputtering when the smoke from the firecracker hit his eyes and lungs. I had set it gingerly underneath a whole hedge of bushes, so the guard would have trouble finding it through all the smoke and confusion.

I quietly slipped inside the guardhouse.

I was panting and sweating in the small, dark room. My heart beat a million million miles per second, like the time when I had been stalking Aria to her house. I quickly switched on my flashlight, knowing I had limited time on my hands.

The beam of light flashed through the window, which wasn't exactly the smartest idea I had ever had, because the guard definitely noticed.

"Hey!" the burly man shouted, "Hey, who's in there?"

I cursed, then whipped my head around the dark room, looking, looking…

_There._

"Genius." Alison murmured as I quickly slung the heavy ring of keys into my bag. She definitely hadn't been there before.

"Yeah. Now all I have to do is get out of here so I can actually _use_ them," I informed her, and then quickly slipped behind the door, right when the guard burst into the house, breathing quite heavily (Ali didn't bother to hide from him).

While he searched the room for the phantom, mysterious light, I quickly slipped out of there from behind the door, then ran across the school yard, Ali tight on my heels.

"That was a close one!" Ali laughed-shouted, the wind making her cheeks turn pink, the sun turning her hair golden. She annoyed me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, now go _away."_ I told her, and as expected, she did.

Hey, she _is_ part of my imagination, after all. I can do what I want with her.

The whole spectacle at the guardhouse was to collect the keys to the school. I now had every single key to every room in my possession. I felt a familiar rush of power that I thought only holding my cell phone could give to me. I imagined all the things I could _do._

But first, I needed my cell phone. That was my priority. Becoming some secret phantom who wanders the halls of the school with every door open to her was secondary.

I rushed towards the back doors of the school, taking the long way around the building, just in case the guard had decided to start hunting for whatever crazy punk teenager who had almost set the campus on fire. I jammed the key into the locked back door, then crashed my way into the building.

Finally. I was in.

And so was Ali.

"Hey. What took you so long?" she asked in her bored voice. She was stretched out languidly along the top of the lockers, playing with her hair and staring, disinterested, at the hallways.

I shot her a glare, then got up and started walking quickly towards my destination, not bothering to let her catch up. I quickly calculated how much time I would have before the guard would notify school security. Probably two minutes, at least…

I rounded a corner and there Ali was, _again,_ for all the world leaning against the wall like she owned it. She grinned when she saw me.

"This place sure hasn't changed since I left, has it?"

"_You_ haven't even changed since you've left." I muttered, busily extracting the keys from my purse. I walked towards my math class and was about to open the door when suddenly, I stopped.

"What? What is it?" Ali peered at me curiously, searching my face.

I went pale. "The substitute teacher's in there."

And she was.

Mrs. Merle, working on a Saturday in the school building. Of course, I should have _known._ Substitute teachers _always_ work on the weekends in school; typing up memos for the teacher when he/she comes back, creating schedules, grading papers, sending emails to whomever they were representing…

Oh, god.

…_Idiot, _I thought furiously, reeling back from the door and pacing towards the lockers. I wanted to kick something.

Mrs. Merle was a _substitute._

I should have _known._

I should have been prepared.

I should have planned something, in case she was there, in the classroom where my cell phone was. I should have done something.

"I _suck!" _ I exclaimed, and I kicked a locker, for extra emphasis. The tin-like metal reverberated, sounding throughout the entire hallway. Alison looked at me worriedly.

"Quiet! Someone will hear you and they'll come running!"

I laughed. Loudly.

"There's no point anymore! It's probably been way past two minutes; I'm out of time. They'll find me now." I was laughing, but without amusement. I felt sick.

Ali was _really_ looking worried, now. "There's still _time, _Mona." She whispered. I shook my head and sat down, leaning my back against the lockers, staring at my knees.

I had been stupid enough to get my cell phone taken away from me. Had been dumb enough to stalk Aria in heels. Had to have been pathetic enough to have these sick, weird, _psycho_ conversations in my head with a dead girl. Had to have been _blind_ enough not to figure out that yes, _idiot_, substitutes _do_ work on Saturdays at school.

I couldn't do _anything_ right.

I sighed and leaned my head back, staring blankly at the ceiling. Any moment now and the guards would come looking, yelling for me, and Mrs. Merle would see me in the hallway, put two and two together, then give me detention. And I wouldn't _ever_ get my cell phone back now, I'd have to get it confiscated; and _A_ would no longer exist, and then I'd just be Mona forever.

Ali hesitantly sat down beside me, and started petting my hair, like I was a kid. I closed my eyes and bit back the tears that threatened to fall down like a tidal wave; I could almost, _almost_ feel Ali's hand on my head.

But she was dead.

She wasn't actually _there._

My self confidence had been so pathetic and weak that my imagination had conjured her up because I had _wanted_ her there.

"Mona." She murmured softly. "You're a genius."

"I'm also an idiot."

"You tried your best."

"That's not good enough."

Ali looked on sympathetically as I stared blankly at the ceiling. "Oh, Mona…"

All there was to do was to sit, and wait for the guards to come, for the substitute teacher to figure out I'd been there to retrieve my phone, and for everything to fall apart after that.

It seemed like a thousand years ago when I'd felt like I was on top of the world on Friday. Back when _A_ had been amazing, back when she'd been able to push aside her weaknesses and become _amazing_ and _brilliant_ and everything Mona couldn't be.

…on top of the world.

…_on top_ of the world.

I slowly turned my head towards Ali, my eyes wide. She was smiling a little.

"See? I told you you're a genius." She murmured softly. "I knew you'd figure it out."

I jumped up and looked towards the ceiling clock. Two minutes had already gone by. It was a wonder the guards hadn't come crashing through the school building yet.

Then it hit me like a ton of blocks.

I remembered.

_They can't._

I fingered the ring of keys in my hand.

_I have the keys._

I started to laugh, and so did Ali.

I had the keys.

They couldn't unlock the doors. I had all the keys.

They were probably outside the soundproof walls, yelling their heads off and pounding on the doors for someone to come and help them in.

By this point I was laughing so hard I was crying. I still had a chance. I still had time.

Not all was lost.

Alison got up, still laughing, and then patted my shoulder.

"Start planning," she said, and I couldn't agree more.


	5. Secret

It was a great plan.

"Mrs. Merle. Please head to the main office for a small while. We need you to fill out some substitute teacher documents." I had unlocked the door to the main office and used the P.A. announcer to call Mrs. Merle to the main office.

The P.A. room, which Student Council held their daily announcements.

The P.A. room, which was _on top_ of Rosewood Day's building.

I rushed back towards the classroom, using the long way so that Merle wouldn't see me. I checked the classroom and found it empty.

I opened the door and unlocked the drawer she had locked my cell phone away in. Alison was there every step of the way, encouraging me and basically giving me mini pep-talks. Not that I needed them, of course.

"Here it is." I said softly, then grabbed my _A_ cell phone. It felt good to hold it again.

"Remember, swap phones!" Alison urged, and I immediately reached into my pocket for Mona's cell phone, but _right then—_

I heard footsteps.

Cursing, I slammed the drawer shut and ran out of the room, Ali close behind me, _A's _cell phone in my hand. I looked around wildly for a place to hide it, but there was nowhere, _nowhere,_ and the footsteps were getting closer…

Then, suddenly, I saw it.

The Locker.

_Yes._

I hurriedly jammed open the combination lock and threw my phone and purse on the top shelf, right when Mrs. Merle came walking down the hall.

With a bunch of security guards.

"I don't understand what's going on!" she was exclaiming, wringing her hands. "First, you men are locked outside without the keys, and then some random announcer tells me to go to the main office; and there was no one there! What's going on? What-"

That was when she saw me. Her eyes widened, then showed realization, then turned angry.

"_Mona Vanderwald!"_ she screeched. The guards turned towards me curiously. I faked a guilty squirm. Alison shrieked.

"What are you _doing?_ Are you _trying_ to look guilty?" Alison freaked. I silently tried to calm my heavy-beating heart. I knew what I had to do.

"H-hi, Mrs. Merle!" I faked a stutter, and expertly pitched my voice an octave higher. The guards and Merle looked outraged.

"_You_ set off that firecracker!" one of the guards called out.

I blinked, suddenly turning from guilty-squirming to confused. "Firecracker? What firecracker?"

"Don't play dumb, Mona Vanderwald!" Merle was yelling now, coming down the hall quickly; or, as fast as her heeled shoes would allow her to.

_Heh. Lady, I already learned my lesson with heels._

"_You're_ coming with _me_ to the principle's office!" Merle grabbed my arm and hauled me away from the Locker, which I just managed to swing shut in time before anyone could see what I had inside.

Alison was glaring at me. "I can't _believe_ you!" she said. I knew better than to talk back to her.

…

Meet Mr. Jenson, our principle.

A good guy, mostly. Which basically means that he's wimpy, even though he's the one in charge, the one who calls all the shots.

_Tch. I could totally be a better leader than him, _I thought to myself.

"Mr. Jenson!" Merle proclaimed indignantly, "I found this girl outside my classroom going through her extra locker! As you know, students are prohibited to be on school grounds during the weekend. The guards have also complained that there was a break-in in one of their guard houses, someone set a firecracker outside the guardhouse, stole the keys, and then made a fake P.A. announcement to call me to the main office!" her eyes blazed with anger. I checked my nails absently, playing the too-cool kid.

"How are you so calm?" Ali shrieked behind me. I held back a wince at her loud voice. "She's pinned every single thing on you! She's got you figured out; I don't know how you're going to be able to worm your way out of _five_ accusations all at once!"

I ignored her, instead staring straight ahead at Jenson, which infuriated her. "Answer me!" she called childishly.

I still ignored her, keeping my face expressionless, but she was getting annoying. Hey, _she_ was the one who called me a genius. She should have more faith, seriously.

Mr. Jenson looked from me, cool as an ice cube, to Mrs. Merle, who was as angry as a roaring fire. He cleared his throat nervously, then folded his hands on his desk.

"Mona Vanderwald is one of our best students. She is popular, friendly, gets some of the best grades in this school, and as far as I know, has a clean record. She does not seem the type to be stealing from guardhouses and setting off firecrackers. She is-"

"You don't even know _half _of it, Mr. Jenson," Merle hissed through gritted teeth. "Yesterday, during school, Mona was using her cell phone in math class. I took it from her and said that I would give it back to her after the weekend was over. She _clearly_ could not wait that long and decided to pull a little _prank,"_ she sneered impressively at me at this, "on us to retrieve her cell phone."

Mr. Jenson puffed up, then turned to me. "Is this _true,_ Mona?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" I asked dryly, crossing my arms over my chest slowly. I calmed my nerves. One tiny mistake, and I would blow it. I would lose everything. I had to remain cool and calm and unaffected.

Not that hard, seeing as I was already a sociopath.

"Of course she did it!" Merle was screaming now, like a madwoman (which is funny, since _I'm_ the psychopath, here), "She's trying to pull one on us, Mr. Jenson! She's _playing _us like a game! Don't you see?" she pointed accusingly at me. I sniffed at her.

"Lady, _please._ All that for a cell phone? That sounds a little…crazy." Ha. Crazy. That's funny.

As expected, everyone ignored me.

"_Please_ tell me you have a plan," Alison said from the back of the room. I ignored her again.

One of the guards piped up. "_Sir_, she was hiding something in her locker, _sir_." He addressed Jenson formally. "She was reaching to get something, or to put something away, it seems. Maybe she heard us coming towards her and decided to hide her cell phone in her locker."

I turned indignantly towards the guy. "_Sir_, looking into a student's locker is invading her privacy, _sir."_ I mocked, and he bristled indignantly. Jenson looked exasperated, Merle looked furious, and Alison looked like she was about to blow up.

"Mona, we won't look through your locker." Jenson said tiredly. "You're right, it _is _against your privacy rights. There are other ways of solving this problem."

"Right, like what?" Merle shouted, and then a shouting match between her the principle, and all the guards ensued. I was busy checking my nails.

Alison took the opportunity to come up to me. "What are you planning?" she hissed, and I grinned at her.

"Sorry. Can't keep them waiting." I abruptly clapped my hands to get their attention. They all immediately turned towards me. "Yeah, uh, this is getting boring. How about I _tell you_ about what I was doing? You know, instead of arguing about it for like an hour?"

Merle actually turned red at that.

"Pray tell, _what_ were you doing there?" she hissed quietly at me, and I scoffed.

"Sorry, but I was just trying to get my math homework." I lied easily and smoothly, catching everyone off guard.

Even Ali.

"_This_ is your plan?" she hissed.

"WHAT-"

"That's insane!"

"Are you seriously going to believe her, Mr. Jenson?"

"That's why I was all guilty-eyed and caught-in-the-act when you guys found me," I explained. "I knew I wasn't supposed to be there. But I _really _needed my _freaking_ math homework that I had forgotten, so I snuck back in. But I did _not_," I turned towards the guards and Merle stonily, "set off a firecracker or whatever. And I did _not_ steal any keys. I don't even know where you guys _keep_ the keys, nor do I care. And just because of _this,_ I get dragged into the school office to listen to some idiots blather on and on and on. God. I thought teachers were supposed to be _smart,_" I sneered at Merle and she glared back at me.

"I don't believe you." She growled.

"Your loss," I shot back.

"Ladies, please." Jenson put placating hands in front of him, trying to calm everyone down. He looked like one of those people who think in their heads _'I need a raise', _or something. "I'm sure that Mona is telling the truth. She is an Honors student; she does not lie easily, and especially not under these circumstances."

"She's obviously lying!"

"She set off that firecracker!"

"She was trying to get her cell phone back!"

"Those were probably just some of Rosewood Day's student pranks!" I yelled at them. "Trust me, we have a lot of troublemakers who would be willing to try to steal keys and make fake P.A. announcements and burn the school down. Not me, though; I need the good, _Honor student_ grades for college. I would never try something as insane as burning down a building as a prank. That's Toby Cavanaugh's job." I ended angrily.

It worked just as I thought it would; the mention of the deceased Toby Cavanaugh, firecracker-player extreme, who once burned down a treehouse and caused his stepsister's eyesight to disintegrate, turned everyone quiet and shocked. Inside, I was laughing maniacally.

_I am so genius._

"How did you get in the building, then?" one smartass guard yelled. I turned towards him.

"I…oh, alright, I climbed through a window, okay?" I yelled, and I thought of something embarrassing in my life to turn my cheeks red.

Hey, I _am_ a true sociopath, right? And a _great_ actor.

I huffed.

"Like I said, I needed the math homework. So I climbed over some walls, went through a window or two, and then went to my locker! Seriously, that's _it!"_

"In fact, I'll prove it to you!" Merle shrieked dementedly. I raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. I can't believe I once thought she was actually _attractive._ "I'll show you! I locked her cell phone in one of the classroom safes! I assure you, it's not going to be in there!"

She turned to me, a steely, maniacal glint in her eye. "I may not be able to check your locker, but I sure can check that safe!" she turned on her heel and marched away. Jenson beckoned me to follow, and the guards all stood up, as well.

Alison followed behind me.

"_Shit."_ Was all she said. I couldn't blame her.

…

Those were probably the longest moments of my life, watching Merle unlock the drawer and then open it. Alison panicked.

"What are you going to _do?"_ she shrieked at me. I staid silent and didn't move, my expression stony. She grew even more freaked when I didn't do anything.

"Do something, Mona! Anything! Stop her from opening that drawer!" But even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to stop her. Because she was already reaching inside it.

Alison and I stared as she groped around, her face triumphant.

But…only for a moment.

Because then her face froze, and her hand froze, as it brushed against something, like I knew it would. She pulled out a small, black object, like I knew she would. It was Mona's cell phone, identical to _A's,_ like I knew it would be.

I had known all along.

Alison had panicked for no reason.

Right then, after Merle had pulled out the phone, I knew I was going to be alright. _A's_ phone was in The Locker. I would return the keys to the guardhouse tomorrow. I would be serving detention for only a day for breaking and entering.

And then I would go back to being _A._

…

So, all in all, it was a great plan.

Jenson let me off with a warning and a detention on Monday. I left the office and Mrs. Merle steaming with anger.

I secretly went back to The Locker, grabbed my purse and _A's_ cell phone, then ran out of there, free at last.

"Time to get some _stalking_ done," I whisper-yelled to Ali, who…suddenly wasn't there.

"Hello? Ali?" I turned around, trying to find that familiar blonde head, those blue eyes. A tiny prick of worry started in my chest; Ali was always there. She was _always_ there, even when I didn't want her to be.

"Alison?"

I turned around, once, twice. I didn't know what to do. Where _was_ she?

"…Alison?"

Suddenly, I knew.

She was gone. I was never going to see her again.

I had gotten my cell phone back, and this time I wasn't going to lose it. Alison wasn't going to be here for me anymore, because my goal was accomplished.

But…strangely, I was alright with that.

Because I didn't need Ali anymore.

I was _A._ I was strong. I was gorgeous. I was a genius.

And Ali…Ali was _dead._

Alison was dead and gone and she couldn't help me anymore. But that was okay, since I really didn't need any more help from her.

She had done enough for me, already.

Still, though…it had been nice, having her around. She was someone on my intelligence level, someone as sociopathic (_and manipulative and genius and creepy and amazing_) as I was, someone crazy and insane and…she and I were just so _alike._

But, oh well.

_A_ is a solo assignment, after all.

I grinned a little with that thought, then strolled away from the school, my thumbs already on the texting keys.

_Hey Aria! Long time no text! Your parents are divorced now, right? Jeeze, that must have been tough on you. Oh man, Aria, I am so sorry that I wasn't able to be there in your time of need. But I promise that now, __**I'm here to stay.**_

_Spencer! Haven't texted you in a while…and, by the way, I saw you and your friends at King James Mall the other day. I heard that you were talking about me. Glad to see that you haven't forgotten me. I sure haven't forgotten about you guys._

_Hellllo, Emily. I know I haven't been around for a while, so we should celebrate my return. Hey, I know! How about you call the strippers from the Lesbian Hooker Palace? Because I __**know**__ that you have them on speed dial._

_Hannahkins! I've missed you! Haven't you missed me? Did you miss me so much that you made yourself throw up again in the toilet? I'm so touched, Hannah. Really. I am._

Last of all, to Alison: _Fine, so I owe you one. But I still hate you._

_Go to hell. There's only one girl who can torment Spence, Aria, Em, and Hannah at a time, and sorry, but your time's run out. _

…

_Love ya!_

_-A_


End file.
